


More Sinned Against Than Saved

by NiiSanNinjaSensei



Series: All The World's a Trial [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Nurse!Angela, Recovery, Suicidal actions, Trauma, blind!jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-01 13:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16285619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiiSanNinjaSensei/pseuds/NiiSanNinjaSensei
Summary: Angela Ziegler has seen a lot in her life; ranging from scraped knees to fatalities, yet nothing prepared her for something she didn't deem herself qualified for. Nothing prepared her to be unable to cure the one patient she truly cared for.





	1. In Jest, There Are Lies!

Angela Ziegler was a trained professional. She has seen enough horror in her life to par her with the many men fighting the battles she has to tend to afterwards, yet the only blood on her hands were those of dying men.

Angela Ziegler was a trained professional and the best in her field, she was admired by doctors older and younger and there is a reason why she oversaw all medical producers in the Overwatch Headquarters in Switzerland.

That is why when she was contacted by the North American Headquarters requesting her immediate help that she never questioned it, instead she appointed the next doctor as head for the time being she was to be gone. Her flight was scheduled immediately and she tried retrieving information on the task at hand.

Nothing was given to her.

With a frustrated sigh, she decided to close her eyes and dream about the horrors of war.

… … …

“Dr. Ziegler-”

“I was called all the way from Switzerland for _this_?”

“Dr. Ziegler-”

“You do realised there are men _dying,_ and you want me to look at one who is in perfect condition?”

“Doctor-”

“No, no more. I am going back, this isn’t any of my business-”

“ _Doctor_.”

Angela looked over to the new voice, a known voice. It was Winston, an old friend of hers. A trusted friend.

“Winston, explain to this man that I have better things to do.”

“Angela, would you like a tour of the new facility? You were busy when it opened.”

She nodded in defeat and joined her friend as they walked down the corridors. At first it was silent, all headquarters had the exact same layout in order to have transfers adapt easier, but she kept her grimace to herself until her patience started to wear thin.

“What is this about Winston?”

“It’s the former Strike Commander, he went out on a mission and came back months later. No vision, and screaming nonsense at everyone who comes near him. We can’t find the problem, and he’s making… serious accusations. The board decided to take the ruling of our most trusted doctor, you.”

“What accusations?”

 _…_ … …

Angela was not impressed with the sight of an attractive blond man strapped down to a gurney with a gag and blindfold. At first she thought this was an elaborate prank until she saw the blood underneath his nails.

Winston mumbled out something close to ‘attacked the staff’. She requested for the man to go outside while she cautiously approached her new patient. She knew of the Strike Commander, yet he didn’t directly influence her work over at Switzerland so she never had the chance of meeting him. She didn’t allow the man’s rank to sway her verdict, and with this she hardened her heart.

She undid the blindfold first, saw his perfectly cleared eyes and wanted to almost swear at any unseen cameras, but the eyes didn’t focus and she held back her anger. Not all blindness resulted in pigment loss, she knew this. Next her fingers reached for the gag and her own jaw started to ache when she saw the strain in his own.

“Jack,” she slowly released the gag. “My name is Dr. Ziegler-”

“-STAY AWAY FROM ME!”

The entire gurney started to shake as the man fought with all of his strength, his wrists and ankles bled, his screams were loud enough for Angela to cover her ears in fright. He bit his tongue painfully, and bashed his head against the thin pillow provided by other staff.

This was madness, this was torture.

Without a second thought, Angela scanned the room and found a syringe, she quickly prepared it and with experienced accuracy jammed it into Jack. The liquid slowly entered the man, his thrashing making it hard, but Angela was no stranger to difficult patients. The man started to calm down, his screams ebbing away as the medicine slowed down his body.

“What the fuck did they give me?”

… … …

She did the physical exam with her patient unconscious, not wanting to succumb to any injuries of her own. Her fingers trailed over skin and prodded for anything unusual, unfortunately she was unable to ask the man if he felt pain anywhere, but she guessed that could wait for another time.

She frowned as her hands stopped at his hip, the report (which disgustingly consisted of a hand scribbled mess Jack did himself in his blind and panicked state which someone patiently managed to rewrite) she read refarding his state nagging at her.

She knew she had to do a full examination, yet it seemed absurd to check for something which couldn’t be true – why would the man’s own men assault him in such a manner? Apparently Strike Commander Jack Morrison was delusional enough on the mission to blame his own team for his current demise, and it was up to Angela to ensure Overwatch that their leader wasn’t fit to command anymore.

With newfound determination, Angela allowed herself to continue her examination, and she hated the results.

Angry at the whole procedure, she strutted out of the room and went to find Winston, he was the reason she was here and he would be the reason that she could finally go back. Barging into the man’s office, she barely felt guilty as the man in shock scattered the papers he was holding. He nervously pushed his glasses up his nose and gave Angela careful smile.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“It doesn’t make sense Winston, there isn’t _anything!_ He has bruising and scars, but so does every single soldier who comes back. I’ve had enough, I’m needed at more important places-”

“-Angela, please sit down.”

With an angry huff, she complied and sat down on the plush chair facing Winston.

“Explain to me then, why I should still be here.”

… … …

A week after the examination, Angela continued to monitor Jack with a curious eye. Winston told her interesting stories, concerning not only the Strike Commander but another man Adam Jones and a rather traumatised nurse, Jessica du Plessis. Apparently this wasn’t the first time the Strike Commander was in this very same position, only thing which was different is that he was blind and blubbering like a fool.

Angela also managed to speak to the other nurse, and she was filled with horror when she started to doubt what the higher ups have been telling her. What if Jack was telling the truth? What did that mean for Overwatch?

Would it shut down? Would wars escalate? Would all hope left in the world vanish?

Jack woke up again and the tell-tale signs of panic had Angela dart from the observation room to be at the man’s side. He still thrashed and screamed, yet it was starting to wear the man down quicker. Usually it went on for hours, now she only had to count down thirty minutes before the man cried himself to sleep.

Angela was a _doctor,_ not a therapist… why was she still here? Her superiors refused for her to leave, insisting she stays until the man fully recovers, and somehow she wondered if this whole mess was bigger than she was being led on.

Jack finally reached his thirty minute mark, yet instead of crying, he turned his head towards Angela who was fiddling with some syringes in case the man never did wear out.

“Who are you?” His voice was broken, bloody and beyond what she remembered from television.

“I am Dr. Angela Ziegler-”

“-No you’re not.”

“Ex-excuse me?”

“Doctors are cruel, they tied me down… I like the nurses…”

She tried not to dwell on what else the doctors did to him.

“I guess we all want to be something else… you caught me, I really am just a nurse.”

He didn’t smile or acknowledge her, instead he closed his eyes and drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Angela was sure she was going to go crazy, she couldn’t be with this man any longer. Winston, Jessica, the report… it was too real, everything just fitted so perfectly. She wanted to help him, but she couldn’t, not as a doctor.

… … …

It was when Angela finally mustered the courage to confront her superiors about the possibility of Jack telling the truth when she understood what was going on. The men in front her regarded her with cool expressions, and she was sure she was winning them over when the door to boardroom opened in stepped a man she saw in passing during visitation hours; Adam Jones.

At first she wanted to tell him to go away, but the sudden menacing looks from everyone around her had her realise she could have never won.

“Angela Ziegler, you better thread carefully, make one wrong move and we will gladly transfer you somewhere less… _public._ ”

She refused to feel fear against the threat, she refused to show the tremble in her fingers, but she couldn’t stop the gasp as a hand enclosed around her throat. It tightened enough for her to understand this wasn’t a normal threat, this was her death sentence.

“And if you were to leave this base without Jack, we will terminate your position.”

“Forget what you know.”

“Jack Morrison is lying.”

“He wants revenge.”

“Adam Jones is the rightful commander, and Jack won’t stop until Adam is brought down.”

“Show the public who Jack really is.”

… … …

She told Winston to break Jack, she told the man how wrong he was to brainwash her the way he did. How dare he question Overwatch? How dare he question what they stood for? Jack Morrison was a threat to the organisation, and Angela won’t be satisfied until the man was broken beyond repair.

… … …

“I thought nurses were supposed to be nice…”

“And I thought you were supposed to be the victim here.”

She saw him flinch but she could care less. She was a good actor, Adam Jones told her all the wrong Jack did to him. How dare Jack use his title against his own lover? His friends? How dare she believe that Jack Morrison was good enough to control Overwatch? She was angry at herself for ever falling for it, for never questioning the people she worked for.

Now she would make up for it, she would make sure no one would fall for any more lies.

She unkindly injected Jack with more medicine, wanting the man out of the medical ward as soon as possible. Winston was only allowed to work on him once he was discharged, and she was more than happy to speed up the procedure.

It was a month later when Winston finally started the therapy, and with orders from Angela he was to ensure that Jack reveal the truth, no matter how Winston does it. She was never there for the sessions, instead informants ensured her that the hoax of sexual assault was easily dismissed in favour of focusing on his disabled state. Jack was recovering with the state he was cursed with, yet he remained stubborn as he refused any experimental surgery or helping aids. Other therapists asked Angela if they could help as well, but she dismissed them. Winston would do his job, and he would do it well.

She saw Jack’s spirit lifting with each passing day.

She was disgusted, of course he was happy now that his _lies_ were finally being heard. Of course the former Strike Commander would be happy for manipulating everyone around him.

She hated him.

… … …

Adam Jones was appointed as the new Strike Commander, and Angela Ziegler regretted everything.


	2. Who Is It That Can Tell Me Who You Are?

Jack was angry at her and she knew it. His eyes were closed and his fingers flexed with raging intent as he sat in the living room with soft music playing from the radio. She was careful to step around him as his anger only grew, yet she wasn’t quiet enough. His arm shot out and he grabbed onto her wrist. It was dumb luck more than anything else.

“Turn it off, I can’t hear you.”

The radio was the only thing keeping his anger away from her. Complying, she turned off the radio and the house fell into silence. He was still angry, but his shoulders relaxed a bit.

“What did I do?”

He didn’t answer, only flexing his fingers again before standing up. She rushed to his side and that’s when lashed out.

“That! That’s what you’re fucking doing! I’m a grown man dammit!”

She barely had time to register as he walked away from her, bumping into furniture as he tried to find his room. He continued to scream and curse with every bump and bruise, but Angela for the sake of his sanity allowed his pain to continue.

… … …

She took him away from that place, promising Adam that she will break him. Lure him into a safe environment, and then show him that no place was safe.

It was disgusting how gullible the new Strike Commander was.

She took him to her house she owned in Stowe, having been encouraged by a colleague to invest in residency in the States – and right now she was so happy she did it. No one here would know much about Overwatch nor the face of any of the Strike Commanders. It was a safe place for Jack to be, and Adam had no idea where they were.

The house might have been in her name, but so are another two she owned in the continent.

She was afraid Jack wouldn’t come with her after what she has done to him, yet the man adapted too easily to just leave the facility and travel to a place he’s never been before. He didn’t seem to remember anything that happened, perhaps Adam administrated a drug to him. It could’ve happened, Angela wasn’t caring much about Jack at that time.

Which just opened another floodgate of guilt… hopefully she can make it right this time.

… … …

“Jack! Wake up! Jack!”

He was screaming again, like the first time she met him. His nails dug into his arms until they bled and his eyes were squeezed painfully shut. He thrashed and kicked and she couldn’t get near him.

She was a doctor, a doctor who stayed away from any form of PTSD because she knew, knew, she wouldn’t be able to deal with such patients. Yet here she is, and she was on the verge of a breakdown for allowing herself to take on such a task.

With a weak heart, she sat back and held her tears as he waited for him to calm down. It could have been hours later when he finally stopped and was too exhausted to fight against her as she patched him up.

She should tie him down, but even she knew it won’t make anything better. She had no one to advise her, no one to guide her. For once in her life, Angela was beyond a cure.

… … …

It was strange to see a man so stubborn to accept his limitations in life. Jack continued to curse and scream and kick every time he failed to safely navigate around a piece of furniture. It should have been hilarious, but Angela only found herself wince every time her couch got abused.

She couldn’t help no matter how many times she tried, he was just too stubborn. She knew he kept walking around because he was a restless man who practically breathed activity. She couldn’t stop him from screaming at her furniture, but she could help him in other ways.

“I have a treadmill. You can use it if you want to.”

Jack only grunted, but she could see him smiling slightly. Without another word, she led him to the small gym and had him touch the buttons he painstakingly placed identifiable stickers onto for easier access.

He stood on the belt and pressed the pineapple to find himself slowly starting to walk. She could see the excitement on his face.

“And before you start complaining, you’re going to wear this.”

He opened his mouth in question, but it shut when she attached the safety string to him. He could argue, but she saw the understanding in his blind eyes. Even he knew he had limits.

His finger searched for the crescent moon, and Jack was running.

… … …

Two weeks of blissful peace, and she finally woke up to find Jack gone and the front door open. Heart stuttering, Angela ran outside screaming his name. She had no idea who else she woke up, but barely cared as she tried to understand what went through Jack’s head.

He was gone, blind and gone and could be dead.

She continued to scream until her voice was hoarse, running barefoot in the cold streets as she tried to find the man. She could hear the river nearby and her heart skipped a beat. Please no.

Fearing for the worst, she ran to the river to indeed find the man she was looking for, but he wasn’t busy drowning. Jack stood next to the river, looking down at the black water. She wondered what he was thinking.

“Jack-”

“I’m so tired Angela.”

The fear clawed at her again.

“Let’s go home Jack… please get away from there…”

“What happened? I woke up and I was here… with you… what happened?”

She carefully walked over to him, touched his back, his neck, wrapped her arms around his middle.

“Jack… I’m so sorry, I should’ve helped.”

“Can we stay here? Please don’t leave me.”

“I promise Jack.”

… … …

She got an email from Winston to inform her of the weak salary Jack was given. It made her angry, but Overwatch was never good to its own people – it only cared for its image. With another guilty heartache, she sent out an email to the two people Jack wished to keep away from all of this.

He needed the money, she will be better for him.

… … …

Two weeks later Jack was standing in the streets waiting for a car to hit him.

Then the next week, and the next, and the next.

The people started to learn about him, about his condition. New rules were made to ensure the crazy blind man didn’t kill himself in their little town.

… … …

Jack never learned that she knew the truth, and she never told him. It was her private secret, allowing herself to be hated by the man she wanted to save.

_Even Doctor Angela Ziegler is worthless at times._

She continued to act as his nurse, continued to have him believe she was nothing but an innocent bystander.

He knew some things, and sometimes he just forgot them, and sometimes he knew too much. It was too confusing, yet if it kept him sane, Angela had no choice but allow the man to continue his insanity.

… … …

Two and a half years later Jack asked for a change of scenery.

It was a pleasant evening with Jack seated at the dining room table waiting as Angela prepared dinner. It was quiet as he didn't allow any noise to distort his sense of hearing, yet Angela could appreciate the piercing white noise at times like these. It was even more welcome when the broken silence became satisfying.

“Isn’t California great for old people?” Jack barely initiated pleasant conversation, usually yelling at her.

“You’re not that old.”

“They think I’m your dad, or sugar daddy… or something.”

Angela couldn’t help but smile at him.

“California huh? What made you think of that?"

Jack was silent, staring at his lap in thought.

"A friend told me about it, some time ago, he grew up there."

She nodded although he couldn't see it, secretly she was happy he was finally moving on. He was finally making his own decisions about his life.

The rest of the evening was pleasant as she prepared some mash potatoes for dinner, not having her bothered to learn to cook, when Jack once again spoke up. He spoke of the place his friend told him about, and she realised it was near one of their bases... too close, too close to Adam.

"Jack, Adam-"

"I'm not letting him have this. I'm not letting him have this control over me."

They didn't speak again for the rest of the evening, and that night she researched until daybreak. It was a nice place, although it was popularized a few years ago when a local gangster set to cause destruction of half the town. She didn't want Jack in such an unsafe environment, yet at the same time... he was a grown man... he was allowed to make his own decisions.

It was when Jack stumbled into the room when she realised how long he has been suffering, three years of suicide attempts and her coddling didn't help him at all.

"Come on, let's pack your stuff."

Maybe, maybe he can finally leave his past behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this concludes the story of Angela and Jack  
> I have the first three chapters done for the sequel, and it will be published in 2019!
> 
> I do take requests on [tumblr](https://niisanscroll.tumblr.com/)  
> And I spill too much tea, so now I have to drink [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/A0A8NXY2)
> 
> That was lame   
> Kill me

**Author's Note:**

> The last one-shot entry until the sequel  
> Which I am working on  
> I promise, but I probably won't publish it until 2019  
> (I wrote like 2 chapters and realised I was focusing on the wrong person, whelp.)


End file.
